Ruffled Feathers
by igirisexual
Summary: Wingtalia AU! Up on a mountain, there lives a flock of winged people, sometimes thought to be 'angels'. The flock is a collection of these people from all around the world who've come together despite all their troubles and pasts. Request what characters and ships you want to read about! More info in first chapter. There will be USUK and RoChu. On hiatus for who knows how long.
1. Falling and Flying

**WHOA. hello again my dear readers. this time its wingtalia that im writing! ive decided that im gonna do like a request type thing? leave a review with a pairing or character you want something about and if i can think of something for them ill write it! of course, you can ask for more about the usuk nerds too hehe (they're the central characters i suppose? im not sure)**

**if you want to know what ships ill write, you can look on my profile! i ship more than that, of course (those are just my mains), cos really i ship lots and lots of things. don't ask for 2p or nyotalia though, please, as im not gonna include those in this au.**

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It started when he saved Alfred from crashing. A fledgling, too young and undeveloped to even consider taking flight, had decided to go against everything his parents had said, and stood at the top of a precipice. Alfred spread his small wings, the feathers pale yellow as they practically shone in the hot sun. Fearless and stupid with excitement, he jumped.

The young Arthur had been idling far below, eating a rabbit that he had caught and cooked. He did little in his spare time, as he was very lonesome and stayed away from others. A recluse, if you will. He had heard a whistling and screaming from above, and looked up. He had only a split second to react, but within it, spread his golden wings and shot upward to catch the falling boy in his arms.

"What the hell were you doing?!" Arthur cursed as he fluttered gently down and put this strange fledgling on the safe ground.

"Flying, duh," Alfred retorted, crossing his arms and folding his wings against his back.

"You were going to crash and break your neck." He muttered.

"Nuh uh, I was flying!"

"Do you want to see _real_ flying?" asked Arthur, spreading his wings as if showing off to the boy.

"Hmmph.." Alfred mumbled. "Fine, whatever. I'm totally a better flier than you, I bet." Arthur scoffed, put down the rabbit, and took flight. Alfred could only watch in awe as he soared, wings a flash of barley gold against the blue of the summer sky. He landed after perhaps five minutes, grinning and smug.

"Whoa!" cried Alfred, jumping over towards him, wings fluttering - as he had neglected to fold them - before running up to Arthur. "You gotta teach me how to do that!"

"I don't have to teach you anything." Arthur scoffed, sitting down and nibbling at his charred rabbit once again. "I don't even know your name."

"Alfred!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "And I'm gonna be the best flier ever! 'Specially if you teach me, mister!"

"My name is Arthur." He mused quietly.

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"Finally," sighed Alfred, stretching his fully-grown wings. "It's time to show you what I can do now. 'Cos I've totally improved since the last test."

"Uh huh," mused Arthur, raising a brow. "Yes, I'm sure you've learned so much over the course of a week."

"I'm totally better! I learned to do a new thing!" Alfred boasted. "Well, actually, Francis taught me." Some point, over the years spent living together and training and teaching Alfred to fly, Arthur had been dragged up to live with the flock, courtesy of the American. There, he had been reunited with old enemies, and met many new faces. He still wasn't completely comfortable with living around others, but he guessed that there was safety in numbers.

"If Francis told you, then it's probably dangerous and you shouldn't do it." Arthur muttered sourly. Francis was one of the old enemies, rather than new friend or acquaintance. Alfred sighed and shrugged, walking nervously up to the edge of the craggy rockface. He was still a bit shaken up over heights while flying, due to his plummeting all that time ago, but he was convinced he could do it.

He looked up to the sky, took a deep breath, and jumped. He let himself fall for a moment, with Arthur on standby if he did take a turn for the worse. When he reached his best speed, Alfred spread his wings and soared back upward, riding the winds and flapping when he needed to. His flying style was sleek, obviously similar to Arthur's, as he had been Alfred's mentor. Now ready to show off, Alfred started flying in a straight line.

As he neared the cliff face again, he dipped one wing to the side, and caused himself to turn. Arthur seemed unimpressed. Determined to win the Brit's approval, Alfred tilted his other wing in the same way, and rolled mid-air. After repeating that a few times, he fluttered down and landed beside Arthur, puffing and wiping a line of sweat from his brow. "How was that?"

"Dangerous." Arthur chided softly, walking over and pouting. "You really need to wash your wings, they're such a mess." He scolded, gently reaching up and picking at some clumpy feathers, trying to work out what was causing them to form a tuft.

"You don't even care that I just did like four super awesome side flips," whined Alfred, flicking his wing a little and brushing the tips against Arthur.

"You could've gotten hurt with such a dangerous maneuver," he grumbled, parting the mat in Alfred's wing and revealing a little patch of dried blood. "Alfred, care to explain?"

"I kinda did get hurt during practice," he shrugged. "But it's no biggie."

"You need to fly more responsibly," Arthur muttered, tutting and letting his fingers linger amongst Alfred's golden feathers for a moment. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Just a little."

Arthur led on the flight back home, 'home' being a rocky outcrop atop a tall mountain. A few others seemed to be here right now, but not many. Arthur landed on his feet, and turned to help Alfred land as well. Usually, Alfred would try to land on his own when going down the mountain to hunt or practice flying, but this was home, and the ground was hard stone. It hurt to crash land on stone, as opposed to grass or a treetop.

Alfred slowed down his flight and awkwardly tried to fold his wings a bit. Instead of gracefully landing into Arthur's arms as per usual, he messed up and ended up just knocking the Briton over, and then unceremoniously falling against the smooth rocky ground.

"Thanks!" shouted Arthur, pissed off as he scrambled to his feet. "Bloody thanks, Alfred!"

"Sorry," he laughed, getting up also and rubbing his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I may or may not have just been concussed."

"You ass." Arthur grunted, going over and gently punching Alfred's chest.

"Arthur, Alfred!" a voice cooed, and the man's fingers rested gently on Alfred's wing. In reflex, Alfred spun around on his heel and booted this man square in the stomach.

"Hands off the wings!" Alfred spat, before his eyes widened and he laughed, realising who he'd just punted. "Oh, hey Francis." Arthur was cackling at the downed and winded Frenchman.

"Hey," Francis wheezed, slowly staggering back up to his feet. "Alfred, did you do that move I taught you?"

"He won't be learning any more flight techniques from you," Arthur sneered, giving his rival a glare before taking Alfred's arm and leading him away. "He'll get hurt."

Arthur led Alfred to the nearby river, pouting and muttering curses upon Francis's name.

"Dude, do you have ta' be so mean to him? He just taught me a cool move, that's all," Alfred frowned, wandering after his close friend. "He didn't mean for me to get hurt, that was my fault, anyway. I crashed into a tree."

Arthur rolled up his trousers and went to the riverbank, instructing Alfred to follow. "I probably overreacted," he muttered. "I just don't want you getting hurt, all right?" he mumbled, bringing Alfred to the water and gently splashing some water onto his injured wing.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Arthur was very gentle as he washed the hypersensitive feathers, making sure to get any grit or blood out of the wings. Wings in general were a very tender subject. The unspoken rule amongst the flock was not to touch the wings of another, unless you were close to them and they gave you permission. The troublemakers of the flock would often go about poking everyone's wings when they were asleep, which woke them up almost instantly. It was very special to have permission to touch another's wings, really.

He finished before too long, and led Alfred over to the cliff face so that they could sit and watch the sunset as they usually did. Alfred flicked his wingtips playfully in Arthur's direction, leaving the Briton covered in little drops of water.

"Thanks, arsehole."

"You're welcome."

As the afternoon sky turned pink and orange, Arthur slowly unfolded one wing and put it around Alfred's back. In quick response, Alfred's damp wing shot out and curled around the Briton.

"Thanks for washing 'em," Alfred sighed, leaning back on his hands and kicking his legs childishly over the edge of the rock. "It's really hard to wash your own wings, 'specially when they're as big as mine are."

"Now you're just boasting." Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes and shuffling a little closer to the American.

"Maybe." He shrugged. In this moment, he seemed to formulate some kind of idea.

"Hey, Arthur? D'you reckon I could.. Uh.." he mumbled, trailing off.

"What?" asked Arthur, exasperated.

"Could I," Alfred tried again, pausing and gently moving his hand towards Arthur's sleek feathers. Arthur naturally flinched and his wing jolted back a little, but slowly, he moved it back to its previous position.

"Mmhm," he said quietly, watching Alfred's hand a little fretfully. "You're the only person who has permission now," he laughed a touch bitterly. "It's only fair, since I'm allowed to touch yours."

Gently, Alfred moved his fingers up against the wing close to his own back, and felt his cheeks turning a little pink. "They're so soft," he cooed quietly, gently tousling the small tufts of feathers and then running his hand slowly across the smaller black-tipped feathers that were closer to Arthur's shoulder blade. Arthur was blushing incredibly, redder than the crimson sunset in front of them.

"T-there, now you can stop." Arthur mumbled, folding his wing in a touch flusteredly. "It's embarrassing."

"Thanks, Artie," Alfred cooed softly, returning his hands to the ground to support himself with, and smiling. "I've been wanting to do that since we met."

"Just because I still have fledgling fluff in places," he muttered to himself, crossing his arms.

"It's cute, don't worry." Alfred shrugged, watching the sun go down now. "I've still got puppy fat," he mused. "Funny that we call it that, considering we're more bird than dog."

"We're not dog at all," Arthur mumbled. "But I must admit that your chubbiness is kind of endearing."

"Aww," he cooed, putting a hand to his cheek. "Anyway, maybe we should go back and rejoin the others? Its our turn on patrol tonight, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Arthur sighed, getting up and extending a hand to help Alfred to his feet.

"Patrol's so annoying," groaned Alfred, slumping over once standing up.

"It's necessary." Arthur scolded, frowning. "You know how awful it'd be if full-blooded humans found us."

"Yeah, fair enough," he mumbled. "That's scary. I don't wanna end up like Ivan has," he shuddered, thinking of the Russian and frowning.

"Poor fellow. At least he has Yao." Arthur sighed. "Well, shall we go?"

"Yup!" Alfred cheered, lightening up in an instant. "Let's go!" With that encouraging call, both he and Arthur took flight once more.

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**ayy thats chapter 1 down. leave reviews and stuff saying what character/ship you want me to focus on next chapter? school is a shit so i dont know how often ill update shrug**


	2. Experiment Nutjob

Yao jolted awake. Disorientated, it took him a moment to realise what had happened. Against the dim light of the cavern's mouth, he saw a large shape of beige, almost white, that had practically slammed against his own wings.

"Ivan," he groaned, furrowing his brow and batting the wing away gently. "Stop doing that, damn it!" Ivan, the bulky blonde man laying beside him, slowly lifted his head and yawned.

"Sorry, Yao," he mumbled, frowning and quickly pulling back his enormous wing. "I, um.. Nightmare." He explained softly.

He elicited a weak sigh and shuffled over toward Ivan. "How bad was it?" he murmured, slim arms finding their way around Ivan's torso to embrace him.

"Not as bad as last night's," Ivan huffed, hesitating a moment before hugging Yao back. He did have a problem with not knowing his own strength, and he didn't wish to hurt the one who cared for him most.

"Alright." Yao whispered, stroking the trembling man's hair. Ivan probably didn't even realise he was shaking with fear.

They lay there for a little while, with Yao glimpsing up from Ivan's chest every now and then to see how far the sun had risen. Ah, at last, it was morning.

"We should go and catch breakfast," yawned Yao, parting from Ivan's arms only to sit up. Ivan seemed unmotivated in that he slumped and covered himself with his wings. "Come on, if we get up now, we might rouse earlier than the likes of the Prussian," he enticed.

Ivan got up in an instant, folding his wings and getting quickly to his feet. "I certainly hope that's the case." He murmured, making a motion for Yao to follow him. Yao moved quickly after him, and unfolded his wings to stretch them. In but another moment, they had run out to the mouth of the small cavern, leapt from the edge of the overhang, and taken flight. Ivan was still finding it hard to maneuver his wings properly, even though Yao had been trying to help him learn to use them. It probably wasn't the best that Yao was his teacher, as Yao's wings were about half the size of Ivan's; it was hard to work out dynamics for wings as large as Ivan's.

Yao led Ivan up as they barreled through the sky, taking him up to the plateau type part of the mountain where the flock usually resided in the morning. He landed gracefully, pushing his sleek copper hair back from where the wind had blown it into his face. He turned, and watched Ivan. The Russian landed with not as much finesse, but cleanly enough to avoid stumbling or tripping.

Unfortunately, aforementioned Prussian had his uptight younger brother to wake him at even the earliest hours of the morning. Gilbert already sat upon a low branch in one of the plateau's trees, chatting with the rather obnoxious American that Ivan seemed to resent. Oh, wait, no, that was the American's half brother. They really do look the same, thought Yao.

Ivan, clenching his teeth, looked down and tried to pass Gilbert to head to the little trove where they kept weapons and whatnot. Perhaps, if luck was with him today, Gilbert would ignore him, or at least not bother to talk to him. Luck was rarely with Ivan.

"Oh, look, it's Experiment Nutjob," Gilbert laughed nasally, and Yao narrowed his eyes. "_Guten __morgen_, come up here to find that loose screw of yours?" Ivan kept walking, with Yao trailing after him.

"Leave him alone, Gilbert," grunted Yao, giving the albino a stare before following after Ivan.

"Sorry about him," murmured Matthew, frowning and then looking up at Gilbert with disdain in his eyes.

"It'd be nice if he could just leave me be," Ivan muttered once they had reached the weapons trove. This miniature cavern was hardly _filled_ with weapons; it just had some spears and human tools littered about. Often, during the evening, people of the flock would fly down to human civilization and scavenge what they could use as weapons or tools. Yao had stolen a fishing net long ago, and had come to take pleasure in fishing in the river, or by the lake at the far side of the mountain base. He also enjoyed catching birds, as that was quite the rush.

"I can only pray that he matures some day." Yao sighed, and grabbed himself a spear today. "What do you feel like eating?"

"Uhm," mumbled Ivan, glancing upward in thought. "Do you think you could make that really nice duck thing you made the other night?"

"For breakfast, really?" laughed Yao, gently rubbing Ivan's shoulder. "Well, if it's what you want to eat. In that case, I assume you'll be fishing." Ivan nodded, and gave his companion a little smile.

With the net in Ivan's hands, and Yao tucking a little knife to the cloth belt at his waist, they exited the little cavern, only to have their path blocked by Gilbert. He stood there, wings spread, a smirk on his dry lips. An overly confident prick, in Yao's opinion.

"What do you want?" muttered Yao, taking a quick step in front of Ivan.

"Where're you going, old man and freak?" Gilbert sneered, hands on his hips. "Back to your little cave 'cos you don't have what it takes to be a normal member of the flock?"

"You _know_ why we take residence down there," Yao grunted. "We're going to hunt. Like you should, so you actually have some use." After a few moments of Gilbert smirking, he went to open his mouth.

Ivan's foot connected with Gilbert's shin before he could utter another syllable. Yao only saw the tiniest glimpse of it, but Ivan's face was sullied with quite a dark expression. As Gilbert fell backward, Ivan grabbed at Yao's hand and tugged him out past the Prussian. They were quick to take flight again, not a pair to linger after an act of violence. It was quite taboo to attack another member of the flock, regardless of reason or who started it. Ivan was probably going to be getting into quite some trouble with the leaders of the flock.

"Was that necessary?" Yao hollered against the air that he was cutting through.

"My body moved before I had a chance to think!" Ivan whimpered, angling his body a little to fly closer to Yao.

"He'll tell Alfher, Ivan," Yao sighed, dipping away from Ivan, a little frustrated. "Did you expect something different? Gilbert's treated well because he's one of the leaders' grandsons, you know that." He huffed. Ivan just frowned and continued to soar.

After flying down towards the bottom of the mountain, Ivan landed upon a treetop, while Yao just slowed himself and flapped his wings to keep him airborne. "I'll meet you back at the plateau in an hour." Ivan mumbled, before disappearing down into the canopy.

Yao sighed, and shot back up into the sky. After twenty minutes of meek scouting, he managed to spot a few ducks flying about, and labeled them his target. He acted at first like he was to fly beside them, mimicking their flight pattern and flexing his sleek and dark wings. They were flying slowly; it was no hard task to wield his knife and come closer.

In only a few seconds, he sped up and grabbed at one of the ducks in flight, stabbing its chest and holding it by the throat. He hoped that he could grab another one, and angled himself to chase the fleeing and panicking other ducks. Hurriedly, Yao flapped his wings, only managing to clip the blade against one of them. His knife had struck a wing, or perhaps nicked the throat, and the second duck began to plummet. He folded his wings a touch, and dropped after it.

Yao returned to the plateau before the hour was up, showing off his catches to his friend, Alfred. Alfred, of course, boasted about how he could totally kill a bear, given the chance. Yao disagreed.

Ivan soon appeared on the horizon, seemingly limp in his flight. He landed clumsily, before moving over to Yao and slumping against him, not even bothering to fold his wings. Yao noticed Ivan had bloodstains in places. Something was very wrong.

"Ivan?.." he murmured, also noticing the absence of the net. "What happened?.."

"Humans," he answered softly, voice slurring. "Shot a tranquilizer." Yao tensed. Running into humans was the absolute _worst_ thing that could have happened, especially for Ivan.

"What did you do?.. Why are your wings bloody?" Yao asked quickly, arms around Ivan's back.

"They're not dead, but they're hurt," he mumbled, eyes tearing up. "I barely.. I barely made it back here."

"How'd they find you?" Alfred asked, pouting and taking a shy step closer to the pair. "Dude, how close did you go to their civilization?"

"Too close," whimpered Ivan. "They jumped me, and I-.." he stammered, clutching onto Yao like a lifeline. "They did something to my arm, I don't know-.. I can't-"

Before he could say anything more, he was unconscious against Yao.

Yao made a gentle shoosh noise, and tousled Ivan's hair. "Alfred, he'll probably be out for a while. Please, help me lay him down." Alfred frowned but complied, using his strength to lift Ivan, and then lay him gently on his back, in a way that wouldn't crush his wings.

Sighing, Yao stood properly and crouched beside Ivan's arm, examining it. In one spot, the skin was redder than normal, and he ran his thumb over it gently. "Oh no," he whispered, feeling the blood drain from his face. "It's a tracker."

"Fuck!" cursed Alfred, jumping back. "Dude, we need to get him out of here, away from the flock, ASAP, before the damned humans come and find us!"

"That's not going to happen," Yao grunted. "Do you think.. Do you think I could get it out?" He asked quickly, reaching for the knife at his hip.

"Yao, are you nuts?" Alfred hissed, worried for his flockmate. "You might make him lose his arm!"

"He'd lose more than just an arm if he was taken by _them _again!" Yao snarled. "I brought him up here so he would be free!" He grunted, elbowing Alfred out of the way; he had previously shielded Ivan from his companion.

Many years ago, when Ivan had just been a fledgling, he had wandered from the small flock he lived in. As he had strayed too far from the hills he had lived in, humans captured him as a creature of mystery. Of course, he was given straight to scientists (and hidden from the public eye), who performed tests on him. They injected him with various things (saw how he reacted to poisons and the like), and kept him in a tiny cage; it was a cell that was in no way adequate for how much he grew, and it quickly became cramped and uncomfortable. There was one test where he had been forced to try and learn to fly. It was impossible at that point, for his wings had been crammed into the cage, and had never been allowed to stretch out properly as he grew into adolescence.

He had just been standing there, trying to flex his inadequate little fledgling wings, when _he_ had appeared. With wings like those of a crow, a man flew above. It had been a very long time since Ivan saw another of his kind, and he instantly let out a cry. This yelp of distress seemed to alert the scientists, but it also called the attention of the man flying high above. In mere seconds, that man had swooped down and lifted Ivan, carrying his weak body and flying off to safety. That man was Yao, who brought Ivan back to the flock upon the mountaintop plateau, and nursed him back to health. The rescue had been out of pity, but the love they soon came to share was very genuine.

"What if you kill him or something?!" yelped Alfred, scared.

Yao grit his teeth. "I would never!" Their shouting had apparently attracted another member of the flock, who stood in front of them with folded wings and weary violet eyes.

"Please, calm down. Tell me what the issue is, the two of you." Matthew said quietly, frowning. "But first, you should tell me what's wrong with Ivan."

Yao felt extremely stupid for not thinking of consulting one of the flock with any experience in treating wounds or illnesses. Then again, he had been panicking, and his mind had blurred. "He's been knocked out-.. Uh, a tranquilizer," Yao stammered, glancing down to the poor unconscious man. "I think there's a tracker in his arm, I can feel it beneath the skin."

"I assume you're wanting me to get it out?" Matthew asked, crouching beside his half brother.

"Mattie, Yao was gonna try and stab it out," Alfred said hastily, panic still fresh in his voice. "He would've totally messed up Ivan's arm!"

"Alfred, calm down," Matthew uttered, touching at the reddened spot on Ivan's shoulder. "Yao, go and clean that knife you have. I'll do my best, eh."

Yao followed Matthew's instructions, taking his hunting blade and going to wash it in the river. He returned, and Alfred had been sat aside, and Ivan's wing shifted so that Matthew could get to his arm a bit better. He handed over the blade with apprehension.

"Please, go and wait elsewhere," Matthew murmured to his two observers, looking up and giving them each a momentary glare. "If you stay, I'll only feel pressured." At that, Yao and Alfred went off somewhere else to fret.

Perhaps half an hour later, Matthew found the two once more, and brought them back to Ivan. It had been best to do that operation now, while Ivan was under manmade sedatives. Any other time, and he would have to endure the pain while awake. Yao hurried back to Ivan's side, while Alfred just walked there.

The spot where the tracker had been was now bandaged with old cloth, and Matthew had put the chip to one side. "You were right." Matthew sighed, bobbing his head. "I've deactivated it." By deactivated, he meant he had crushed it with the knife to the point where it stopped working. "I did the best I could, and I can only pray that his muscles will be in proper function."

"Thanks, Matthew," murmured Yao, petting the man's shoulder. "I'll stay with Ivan until he wakes up."

While he waited for Ivan to rouse, Yao prepared the meal Ivan had requested earlier that morning. Perhaps the sauce's aroma was what finally woke Ivan, as he sat up when Yao was near finished putting everything together.

"Yao- Oh, hell," Ivan muttered, moving his hand to the bandaged spot on his arm and cringing as he started to realise the pain in his limb. "What on earth-"

"There was a tracker in your shoulder," said Yao calmly, putting the sauce onto his catch and taking it over to offer to Ivan. "I made you breakfast."

"So why is my shoulder all in pain?" whined Ivan softly, taking the cooked duck with a quiet 'thank you'. "It feels like a chunk of it's missing."

"My understanding is Matthew cut a slit in your arm, and then dug the chip out." Yao murmured, shuffling over to Ivan with his own meal and sitting down. Ivan's face had paled, and he felt a little sick.

"I see.." he mumbled, wondering if he had the guts to eat breakfast right now. He had never been one to handle thoughts of gore very well.

"You're safe now, alright?" murmured Yao. "Can you move your arm?" Ivan slowly tried to lift his limb, and it hurt to do so, but at least he could. "Thank goodness," he murmured. "We weren't sure if you'd still be able to or not." He took a bite of duck, and motioned for Ivan to do so as well.

"Thanks, Yao.." Ivan mumbled softly, taking only a meek nibble. "I don't want them to find me, not ever."

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**please leave reviews saying what pairing/character you'd like me to focus on next! next on my list is ukcan, thank u tox.**

**this chapter was rochu, requested by laveniis (i was gonna do rochu anyway lmfao)**


	3. Concealed

Francis huffed. "But surely, you must tell him!"

"You know I can't!" Matthew stammered, flitting his wings in embarrassment. "I can't!"

"Matthieu," Francis sighed, putting his hands in his lap. "It is unsafe and unhealthy to keep feelings bottled up." Matthew sighed and looked to his guardian, knowing that what he was saying was probably true. Francis looked to his guarded with sincere eyes.

"He'll probably just think I'm Alfred, you know," Matthew mumbled a little deflatedly. "So he won't even notice." His guardian faltered, and a frown grew on his lips. "No-one notices."

"You have to try, _mon ange_," Francis sighed, bowing his head. "A little bird told me that Arthur is to go scouting for resources today. You should join him." Matthew bit his lip, but stood anyway.

"Thank you for believing in me, papa."

He headed out from the little cavern, flicking bits of nest that had clung to his feathers away. It was a mystery as to why Francis had such confidence in him, or why he thought that Arthur would listen. Arthur was a grouchy and rude man, and it was very rare for anyone but those closest to him to see his soft side. Why did Matthew even love him? It was also a mystery, but perhaps clues and hints lay in the man's grace and how easily he became flustered.

"Good morning," he said softly, approaching him with baited breath.

"Good morning, Matthew," Arthur said, yawning and flexing his magnificent sandy gold wings. Matthew tensed. He noticed him.

"Erm, I was wondering if I could," he mumbled, getting a little bashful and shy. "If we could go on that resource run together?.."

"Oh? Sure thing." the Brit shrugged, giving Matthew a little smile. Oh, how he _smiled_. He was beautiful. "I could always use a little help. Plus, its nerve-wracking to go into human places alone."

Matthew felt his heart skip a beat, and tried to force it to remain calm. "Thank you," he practically whispered. Get it together, Matthew!

"Are you ready to go now? Or do you need to do something first?" Arthur asked, tilting his head.

"We can go now."

Smiling, Arthur spread his wings and shot up into the sky, with Matthew hurrying to follow suit. Flying beside Arthur was something Matthew had never done before, just watched Alfred do and feel almost sick with envy. He tried to keep his focus on the wind patterns instead of Arthur, but that proved impossible. As they neared human civilization, they dipped and landed.

"Hold on a moment, you do know how to hide your wings, don't you, chap?" mumbled Arthur, sounding a little concerned.

"Oh, yes," nodded Matthew. Hiding one's wings was an excruciating task, and it seriously drained all the energy from one's body. However, it was necessary for trying to blend in among humans.

"Right, one the count of three," Arthur sighed. On three, he squeezed his eyes shut, concentrated, and his wings seemed to vanish. Matthew did the same, only with a little more struggle. Arthur ushered Matthew to put some shoes that he'd hidden away on, and he fixed his shirt so that it hid the two vertical scars down his back; they were simply markers for where his wings started, although said wings were currently invisible.

They hurried into the human streets, and practically marched towards the supermarket. Resource runs were mostly for clothing and tools, but occasionally food, as well. Human food wasn't very much liked by any member of the flock, with a few exceptions. Matthew and Arthur had to be quick, scuffling around and always seeming to be in a hurry.

Money was another issue among the flock. A few brave and strong members hid their wings almost daily to go into the human world and scrape together some money, be it through begging, thievery, or honest work. Mostly a combination of all three. Whatever they earned was pooled together back home, and put away for when it was needed.

The two finally finished their little expedition, and practically burst out of the streets. They ran back to the forested land, and both exasperatedly freed their wings. Matthew was puffing, whether from tiredness or exhilaration. Perhaps it was both, he thought. Arthur was laughing softly, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.

"That was a good run," he chuckled, running a hand through his mop of barley blond hair.

"It was," smiled Matthew.

"I'm so buggered," Arthur groaned, slumping over. "Think you can fly back up to the plateau?" Matthew faltered, and frowned.

"Erm, I don't know.. Probably not.." he mumbled. "I'm not used to hiding my wings at all, so I'm really tired.."

Arthur pet his shoulder lightly, and just laughed. "Chap, really, it's alright. I wasn't going to fly up right now anyway. Shall we go and sit by the lake, then?"

Matthew laughed weakly, rubbing his arm. "Yes."

They walked, not flew, to the lake, carrying the plastic bags that held today's exploits. Once they reached the water, they scaled a tree and sat there together.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" hummed Arthur, breaking the silence they hadn't' even realised they'd created.

"Oh?" Matthew said softly, following Arthur's gaze. "Oh, yes, definitely." The lake in front of them was a dazzling blue, and rough grey rocks protruded from the water in places. Clumps of reeds dotted the outsides, and little flowers grew here and there, lilies and such.

The silence fell over them again, and Matthew's thoughts filled with worry. Was he boring Arthur? Why couldn't he keep a conversation going? He frowned, and fiddled with his hands.

"Are you alright?" murmured Arthur, folding his wings and raising a brow. "You look a little unsettled."

Matthew jumped. "O-oh! Erm, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"What're you thinking about?" he asked with a smile.

You, thought Matthew. "Nothing in particular." He sighed. "Did you get anything interesting today?" he mumbled, desperate to change subject.

"Oh, yes," Arthur laughed softly, reaching into one of the plastic bags, and pulling out a couple of large brown paper bags. "I got some takeout for Alfred. I know he loves the stuff." He hummed, voice growing too cheery for Matthew to remain comfortable. Of course.

Of course! He was naïve to forget! Although guardian and guarded, Arthur and Alfred were so much closer than that! Matthew felt sick. He was an idiot not to remember that, and then get himself in a position like this one. Matthew frowned. His own guardian's words echoed in his mind, and the upset in his stomach multiplied tenfold.

"Of course he does." Matthew laughed weakly, staring into the waters of the lake. "H-hey, I was wondering.." he trailed off, and quickly covered his mouth. Why were words slipping out like that?!

"What is it?" Arthur asked pleasantly, putting the paper bags away. "Something the matter?"

"Erm, if you wanted, you could touch my wings," Matthew whispered weakly. "I like you very much, Arthur."

Arthur froze. Oh. "I see.." he murmured, frowning now. That's it. Matthew had done it. He practically quivered where he sat, light blond curls resting on his trembling shoulders. "That's a little embarrassing, isn't it?.. Just inviting me to touch them?"

Matthew felt worry and anxiety flood him, as if he was drowning in it. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Matthew," sighed Arthur, kicking his legs a little and staring blankly forward.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," Matthew whimpered, lifting his hands to his flushed face, hiding his embarrassment.

"I like you too, but not in the same way you do, me." He stated firmly, and Matthew's heart shattered. "You _know_ I've got Alfred."

"It's alright." Why was he saying that? It wasn't alright. "I understand."

"Thank you," sighed Arthur. "Are your wings feeling any better? We should probably return to the plateau."

"Yeah, they're feeling a bit lighter." He nodded, and both of them spread their wings, taking flight from the tree they had previously perched in. As they flew back, Matthew only really observed one thing. Even if his wings felt lighter, his body and heart felt heavier than they had ever been before.

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**hahah :') matthew bby im sorry**

**this chapter was ukcan, for tox! next is hongice, but please leave reviews saying what character/ship you'd like me to focus on! by the way, if you want, i will do a ship more than once if i like said ship.**


	4. Birds Of A Feather: Part 1

Emil hadn't seen him coming.

He had been on his way down to the lake, but quickly found himself crashing headfirst into another young man, whose wings were dark and sleek. They snagged against one another mid-air, and were tumbling down and crashing against the treetops before they even had a moment to think.

Emil lifted his head a little, white hair disheveled and owl-like wings ruffled. His shoulder ached – he had landed on it – and he still felt as if his world was spinning. It took him a moment to glimpse to the young man next to him.

"Like, what'd you do that for?!" he huffed, flitting his wings and furrowing his eyebrows. Emil's eyes were drawn to just how thick and odd said brows were.

"Sorry," Emil mumbled, although he was more caught in observing this odd fellow.

He was relatively short, although he still had a few centimetres over Emil. His hair was a little scraggly, but for the most part sleek, and it was the colour of the dark chocolate Emil had tried once. It was a treat that Tino had bought him from human civilization. He and Berwald did go out and work amongst the odd society, after all. His eyes were golden, or perhaps amber; regardless, they were beautiful.

"Sorry? Yeah, great. Who are you, anyway? You're not a member of the flock." The boy huffed, crossing his legs basket-style and leaning his elbows on his knees. At this point, both he and Emil had growing red marks on their foreheads, from where they had accidentally surged into one another. Emil raised a brow. He knew for certain that he was a member of the flock, as much as Berwald or Tino or Lukas. There had been a little merger, after all. The Nordic flock had come together peacefully with the flock upon the mountain, had they not? His only conclusion was that this odd boy was either newly adopted into aforementioned flock, or was of another flock that Emil had no clue about.

"Emil Steilsson." He answered bluntly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. As he did so, his wrist was caught in the stranger's hand. "W-what are you-"

"Your eyes." Here, Emil faltered, using his other hand to bat away that of the stranger's.

"Stop it."

"So, my name's Lei Siu Chun." He yawned. "Just call me Leon, it's easier. My old guardian called me that because he totally sucked at pronouncing my full name."

"Leon.." Emil echoed, trying to remember where he might've heard that name before. "You sound familiar."

"Funny, I've never seen you before." Leon huffed, folding his small wings behind him. "You're an odd guy, Emil."

Emil frowned, and glanced away. "I'm sorry for knocking you out of the sky." He mumbled. "But I should probably go. I'm supposed to be hunting." He uttered blankly, before getting to his feet.

"I was going to visit Teacher," Leon shrugged, and stood up as well. "I'll find him later. I feel like hunting, anyway."

"Wait, what? Please leave." Emil said softly, frowning and tensing. Who did this Leon think he was, anyway, sneakily adding himself into Emil's plans like that?! They had met barely a few minutes ago!

"I bet I'm totally a better hunter than you." Leon boasted, seeming to ignore Emil's discomfiture. "What's your specialty? Fish? Birds? Mine is, like, seafood, 'cos I grew up around the sea."

"Erm, fish.." Emil mumbled, rubbing his arm and glancing around. Maybe if he ran, he could lose this odd boy. "Please, I don't even know who you are."

"I already told you; I'm Lei Siu Chun." Leon repeated, shrugging.

"No, I mean-.. Erm, you're not a member of the flock I'm in, and I don't know if I can trust you or not-"

Leon interrupted. "I think we're from different flocks, that's all. Like, who's your leader?"

"We have this old man called Alfher-"

"Ours is called Romulus. Grandpa of two of our members." Leon stated, as if it was obvious.

"Our flock has almost twenty members," stated Emil softly, lacing his fingers together and awkwardly standing there.

"Whoa!" gawked Leon, pretty eyes widening to the shape of plates. "Ours has eight! Your flock doesn't possibly have a man by the name of Yao, does it?" Emil raised a brow.

"We do."

"Then you're the flock I came to meet!" Leon seemed a little excited, now seeming to have passed the blunt and shy stage. "Our leader has been talking about wanting to join our flocks."

"W-what?" Emil said weakly, taking a step back. Combining flocks? It seemed like a recipe for disaster more than anything else.

"He says safety in numbers." He shrugged. "I have to talk to Teacher, since Kiku's kind in our flock." That made absolutely no sense to Emil, but he let it go.

"If you're telling the truth, I'll take you up the mountain after I've finished hunting."

"You mean _we've_."

"No, I don't."

The white-haired boy huffed and tried walking off in the other direction. He heard the crunch of Leon's feet breaking the dry leaves on the ground behind him, and grit his teeth. Was he oblivious to what Emil was trying to do; escape? Maybe he wasn't, and was just pursuing for the sake of being annoying. When Leon refused to stop following, Emil jumped and spread his wings with no warning. Hurriedly, he took flight.

Leon followed him, much to his annoyance. Every time Emil would try and speed up, Leon would do the same, until he was flying loosely above him. When Emil went to flap to propel himself, Leon's hands were rough and dug into his wings, holding them together and effectively using them to ride Emil straight down to the ground.

"Gotcha!" Leon huffed, hopping off and putting his hands on his hips. "There, like, now lets hunt together." Emil grunted in pain and brushed himself off. Perhaps he should just comply so that this odd boy would leave him alone.

"F-fine! You can hunt with me! Just never hold onto my wings!" he puffed haughtily, turning his head to the side so that Leon wouldn't see his flushed cheeks.

"I couldn't resist," Leon smirked. "They were too pretty and dainty."

Emil rolled his eyes, and led the pair of them to the river. They fished for a while, with neither Emil nor Leon saying anything. Once they had a few fish each, Emil lead Leon up to the mountain, even though he didn't really trust him fully. Apparently, they had a flock combining to set up.

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**ok so i cant do hongice i realised after writing half of one**

** this is half a chapter i think and the nedxt half will shift to rochu as i actually have a vague idea of what im doing**

**gomen**


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